


Soteria

by ClementineStarling



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 12:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11509698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineStarling/pseuds/ClementineStarling
Summary: Post season 2: Back in New York Erich Raeder is contemplating the latest events as he waits for office hours in Berlin so he can reach Obergruppenführer Smith and inform him of Thomas' arrest.





	Soteria

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hyenada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyenada/gifts).



“Your drink, sir.” The barkeeper sets it down in front of him with a wide smile.

A submissive gesture, Erich notes, showing your teeth like that. They're awfully eager to please in this establishment. The patrons are mostly SS and catering to their aesthetics is good for business. First and foremost this means the staff looks like models for racial science posters and normally Erich wouldn't complain but in this case they might have overdone it a bit. The boy is a little too blond, too pretty, too servile not to imply he's performing other duties than just serving drinks. There's no subtlety to this offering, it's as blunt as it is objectionable. Erich disapproves whole-heartedly of such immoral conduct. This is after all a bar for respectable men not a whorehouse.

But then he also learned from the Obergruppenführer that everything serves a purpose, even temptation. “How else would we tell the strong from the weak, Erich,” he said to him on a similar occasion and Erich merely nodded. How else indeed. Good bait catches fine fish.

Erich slides a Reichsmark bill over the bar with the tips of his fingers.

“Keep the change,” he says, forcing himself to return the barkeeper's smile. There is nothing to be won by showing his disapproval, so why not use the occasion to improve his _man of the world_ -act, practise his impression of nonchalance? It's usually the reason he's socializing – not for the pleasure of it but to get the hang of adapting his manners to a specific environment. Field studies if you will.

Only tonight is different. Tonight he needs a drink and he needs the distraction not to drive himself mad over the fact that it's still several hours until he will be able to reach someone in Berlin, who can tell him where Obergruppenführer Smith is and procure him with a safe line. At this point Smith is the only person whose influence will make a difference. Erich has done everything within his power to defuse the situation, there is nothing left to do but sit back and wait, and the helplessness is unbearable.

But Patience is a virtue, isn't it? And if he is good at anything then at cultivating the quiet qualities – modesty, obedience, reliability, courage, loyalty – all these attributes that earn you little recognition in peacetime and scarcely more in war. He had however hoped that the Obergruppenführer would have come to appreciate his efforts, that he had gained his trust over the past years of faithful service. Hasn't he done everything Smith asked of him and more?

And yet the Obergruppenführer didn't have enough confidence in him to procure him with all the pieces of the puzzle – he just fed him scraps, here and there, never more than he needed to fulfil the assigned task, never enough to be really certain what was at stake. But Erich isn't stupid (even though people sometimes seem to mistake his reticence for simple-mindedness), he is damn well capable of distinguishing between the necessity of secrecy regarding affairs of state and the refusal to be honest with him in private matters.

Of course he knew something was wrong, it wasn't hard to put two and two together, but his information turned out to be insufficient to anticipate this outcome. If he had known about the urgency of the situation, he would have been more vigilant. There would have been ways to monitor the Smith's residence, discreetly, prevent this... inconvenience happening in the first place. And how much pain and sorrow that would have spared everyone involved.

But Erich has not doubt it can be fixed, somehow. The Obergruppenführer is good at fixing things. He just uncovered a conspiracy and averted a nuclear war. How difficult can it be under the circumstances to deal with the Public Health Department? At least Erich hopes it will be easy. So far things don't look too promising though. When Klemm went to get Thomas released earlier today, he returned empty-handed.

It hadn't been Erich's intention to involve him but since he had had his hands full with keeping a bunch of blood-thirsty Germans in check it had been Klemm who had answered the call and that hadn't left Erich with much choice in the matter.

It was in a way the worst possible timing. The Führer dead, Smith gone to Berlin, a delegation from the Fatherland to appease, and then Klemm as an unknown quantity. It was less than ideal to have him barge into a meeting with Keller and his entourage. They were on edge anyway, even more so since the news had reached them that Heusmann had been arrested for treason. Apparently they feared to be taken into custody too, or worse shot straight on the spot at the slightest indication of involvement in the plot (the SS had never been squeamish in that regard). Suspicion of their allegiance with the wrong side hung over them like a premature death sentence and it didn't help that in Smith's absence Gruppenführer Keller outranked all officers present at the NY headquarters. The Germans were well aware that the Americans wouldn't risk an outsider assuming leadership, no matter his rank, as long as it wasn't proven he wasn't in league with the traitors. No wonder Klemm's sudden appearance was adding fuel to their apprehension.

Erich was seriously considering sending him away when he poked his head around the door and said: “Can I speak to you for a second, Sturmbannführer?” But for all his recklessness and impulsive behaviour Klemm usually had a good reason for everything he did. He might not do it exactly according to the rules and certainly not as Erich himself would like him to do it but he was reliable and loyal and mostly reasonable too. If he had decided it was important enough to tell him, it would be.

“If you excuse me a moment,” Erich said to his guests and followed Klemm outside into the hallway.

“It's Helen,” Klemm said as soon as they were safely out of earshot. Erich had barely time to disapprove of Klemm's familiarity (despite all of Mrs Smith's encouragement to do so, using her first name still seemed terribly assumptive) because Klemm continued and the bad news were overruling Erich's indignation: “She just called, Thomas got picked up by the Public Health Department. She said something about him turning himself in for an alleged sickness. I couldn't really follow, she seemed completely distraught. Apparently she is afraid they are going to kill him.”

Erich blinked. He had foreseen a lot of obstacles and pitfalls in the Obergruppenführer's plan but he had not reckoned with deliberate sabotage on Thomas' side. How foolish of everyone to overlook that possibility. The moment Erich heard it, it immediately made sense – the boy was raised to believe in sacrifice and heroism, what had they expected?

And then, after the first shock had worn off, he realised what it might mean that the Smiths' secret had been uncovered, that not only the respective authorities knew but also SS-Sturmmbannführer Lawrence Klemm, and for a moment he only felt his stomach clenching with cold dread. What if Klemm chose law over loyalty?

“We have to try and get him out,” Erich said, waiting for Klemm to contradict him but Klemm only nodded.

“I'll take care of it,” he said as if this was nothing out of the ordinary to ask and Erich felt a wave of relief washing over him. Klemm's complicity allowed him to contemplate the other steps that needed to be taken.

“Someone needs to go look after Mrs... after Helen.”

Klemm took off his cap and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I could check in on my way back but don't you think...”

Erich knew what he was going to say. “Someone should be there all the time,” he finished the sentence.

Klemm looked at him, apparently at a loss whom to trust with this sensitive task.

“Let me handle it,” Erich said, and they left it at that.

“How are things with the Germans?” Klemm asked instead.

“Tense.”

Klemm grinned and slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder. “I don't envy you, Raeder.”

And that was that. No fuss, no misgivings, he just went and did what was right.

He is a good man, Lawrence Klemm, even if he usually does his best to hide it.

Erich takes another sip from his drink and turns around on his stool. Klemm is here too, mingling with the crowd, probably trying to ease the tension with the Germans somewhat. Orders from Berlin came through for them to stand down and return to the Fatherland asap, but they still have several hours before their flight leaves and they all decided it would be nice to work on their relationship, have a couple of drinks together, swap a few stories.

Erich is glad Klemm has taken on this task; he is undoubtedly better than him at rubbing shoulders. He's got a natural talent for telling jokes and anecdotes and the fact he's tall and blond and handsome certainly helps. But he also can be imposing and threatening when he wants, and that's what's so alarming about his failure to secure Thomas' release. If his mixture of sunshine charm and sinister SS demeanour doesn't do the trick, what will it take to bring the Public Health Department to heel?

“What do you mean, they refused?” Eric said incredulous when Klemm came back without Thomas.

“They said they can't let him go,” Klemm said with a shrug. “I told them they would regret it if they laid a finger on the boy but that was all I could do. I think I got the message across though. They know he is the Obergruppenführer's son, they won't do anything stupid. Perhaps they're only wary because of the political situation.”

Erich isn't so confident though. Maybe they were indeed worried about Klemm intending to use Thomas for blackmail or some other plot against Smith but he somewhat doubts it. It's more likely a question of abiding by the regulations. In many regards the authorities in the American territories are a lot more concerned with doing things by the book than their parent organisations in the fatherland. Party officials in Berlin more or less do what they like, they bend and break their own rules all the time. If someone has sufficient influence, he will simply request an Aryan certificate for his Semite friend or business partner and no one will dare speak publicly of that vile rumour about their ancestry ever again. Germany is after all an old country, and certain traditions of favouritism are hard too eradicate. If there has always been a group of people in power, it doesn't matter much whether they're aristocrats or high ranking party officials – everyone knows to better keep their mouths shut than contradict their propositions. It's just the natural order of things.

In New York however bureaucrats often seem eager to outdo the Germans when it comes to thoroughness, prove beyond doubt they not only adapted the rules and laws of the Reich but are adamant about enforcing them, and it's in no small part due to the Obergruppenführer's own example. “We can't allow ourselves the weakness of making exceptions,” he said to Erich once. “What we demand of our soldiers, what we teach our youths are the rules we must apply to ourselves too. We need to live by the same laws and policies.”

Tough as leather and hard as Krupp steel, diligent, loyal, obedient, Erich knows the drill. Americans protestantism offered fertile ground for the cultivation of these traits but it takes leaders who live their own lives accordingly for them to thrive. A fish rots from the head down, they say, and the opposite is also true.

So far Erich has had little reason to doubt John Smith's sincere respect for the rules of their society. But the closer you get to those in power, the more you tend to discover the cracks in their masks. Beneath the uniform, the position and status they are only human and all humans, no matter how hard and tough and strong, are ultimately fragile. If nothing else breaks them before the time, it's simply life that grinds them down, their own mortality and the mortality of the ones around them. It's this inherent weakness that binds them all together.

Erich Raeder has seen enough of life to know its cruelties. His mom still talks sometimes about her childhood friend, Millie, who was taken away in the spring of '46. She died of a fever a few months later, official reports claim, but everyone is able to read between the lines. So many died that year, all of them friends and lovers, parents and siblings to someone. But life is, in no small part, suffering and these deaths were necessary. There are some sacrifices that have to be made for the greater good, that are simply unavoidable. Which doesn't mean that you don't have to balance the gains against the losses, it's merely a matter of common sense.

A good and righteous man like John Smith should not be asked to sacrifice his own son, merely to adhere to a principle. Isn't their whole set of values opposed to the very idea of abstract principles and empty doctrines? It's not just the cause or the rank or the office that demands loyalty, it's always the person too – and that's why Erich would do anything to protect the Obergruppenführer. It's his honour to serve him, and if it is within his powers, he will protect him from any unnecessary pain.

It seems only fair to make an exception for the exceptional, reward those who are willing to lay down their lives for the Reich with a bit of lenience. After all, don't they all look away, here and there, whenever one of them has to satisfy a need outsiders would not understand? It's what comrades do for each other. It's not as if he observes too closely that one of the Germans takes an unseemly interest in one of the waiters (although he of course makes a mental note) or as if he questioned the age of the girl is who is snuggling up against Klemm like a second layer of clothing.

Moralism and morality, they're not quite the same thing and efficiency demands more practical approaches than ideology would strictly allow.

Erich glances at his watch. It's still almost two hours until office hours in Berlin and his glass is empty. He considers calling the Smith residence again to inquire if everything's all right. But then hopefully Helen is sleeping by now and the girls too, and he doesn't want to wake them. They should be in good hands after all. Erich sent his own mother over to look after them. She used to be a nurse, he couldn't think of anyone more qualified. (Also, who can you trust in these situations if not family?) Last time they spoke, about two hours ago, Helen had calmed down a bit and his mother said, she would give them all a mild sedative and put them to bed. If something was amiss, he would have been informed, he can rely on that. There really is nothing else he could do right now. Nothing but wait. With a sigh Erich turns around to order another drink.

~


End file.
